Overcome
by PrussianMongrel
Summary: France has left his relationship with England, leaving Arthur in a bad way. The almighty hero, Alfred, tries to cheer Arthur up, but will he be there when the Englishman needs him most. Caution: human names used, blood, and referance to YAOI! read


_Nothing in particular. Just some random USUK that may develop into an actual story. Maybe… If there are enough reviews… ; _

- - -

"Did you have a good time England?" America asked as he sat across the kitchen bench.

The Englishman blushed and smiled.

"I did Alfred. Thank you… but… how did you manage to hire out a theatre for us just to be alone like that…?"

"Ha! I have my ways. But you really enjoyed mucking around with those costumes and things didn't you?"

"Ah… I haven't had so much fun since… um…" Arthur looked away.

"Hey, Arthur. Don't worry about it. I'm trying to help you get over Francis. I'm just trying to make you happy again." He leaned over the counter and caught hold of the Englishman's jaw, brushing away a stray crumb from one of his old mentor's blackened scones.

Everyone knew the relationship between Arthur and Francis had been a particularly horrible one for the Englishman.

Everyone knew that the Frenchman had whispered his language into Arthur's ear and persuaded him into starting out what had seemed to be an easy going romantic relationship.

Everyone knew that at some point in time, the relationship began to fall apart.

At the last UN meeting, Italy had found England curled up and crying in the men's bathroom, but when anyone asked what was wrong, he simply smiled and waved it off, saying that France had left him and he just hadn't been expecting it. Either that or he'd tell them to bugger off and mind their own business… depending who the person was.

"Sorry Arthur…" Alfred removed his hand. He'd only set a goal to cheer Arthur up today, nothing else. "Any way, I'd better be going home. Prussia came over tonight and he might be invading Mathew's vital regions as we speak. Hungary would kill me if I missed getting photos for her.

He stood to leave and Arthur walked him to the door.

"Thank you for taking me out tonight Alfred."

The American smiled.

"Nah, it's ok." He turned for the door, but quickly turned to face England again and leant down and kissed him.

He didn't force himself onto him or anything. Just lightly brushing their lips together, but Arthur surprised him by accepting it, parting his own lips slightly, he explored the American's mouth gently and slowly. He tasted like hamburgers and coffee. But it wasn't overpowering. Just pleasantly light enough for England to taste Alfred himself behind it all.

He felt two hands rest in the small of his back and pull him closer to the warmth of Alfred's body. He reached up and gripped behind the taller blonde's head as he begun to twirl them around slowly.

America brought them to the carpeted stairs that led to the second floor and he lay Arthur down on them, kissing him a little more forcefully. He brought one hand up under the Englishman's neck and moved his kisses down the exposed flesh. He began moving his body against Arthur's in such a way that he couldn't help it.

"A-a! Alfred… Please… stop it… It isn't right…" England tried to push the American of him. Oh God, this was all going so wrong… "Alfred… stop… STOP!"

Alfred stopped and looked at the crying blonde. His green eyes pleading with him.

He sighed, and moved off of Arthur and pulled him up so they were sitting side by side on the stairs. Alfred held him close in a comforting manner.

"What… did he do to you Arthur?" America asked, trying to meet with the Englishman's eyes. "And please just tell me the truth. I want to understand."

England sighed.

"The relationship started falling apart when I refused to sleep with him. I was nervous, but he had lost patience with me and began ignoring me, saying he wouldn't love me anymore unless I gave into him. At the last UN meeting, I decided that it wasn't worth it and told him I wanted out of the relationship. He got so mad… I never thought Francis could be so terrifying. In the end he dragged me to the ground and…"

"… Arthur…"

"… He dragged me to the ground and raped me… ok… I'm sorry Alfred… I wish I could give you what you want from me… but I just can't."

"… I don't want any more from you than just being with you like this…" Alfred smiled sadly and kissed Arthur's forehead.

When he eventually stood up, Arthur looked up at him from the stairs, puzzled.

"I'm gonna go and get some take out and go home. I'll be back over tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok, Alfred. I'll see you in the morning."

America smiled heroically and walked out of the front door, closing it behind him and leaving England on the stairs.

Arthur smiled and decided to clean over the house. How in all of hell was he meant to sleep now?

He put the sugar jar back in the cupboard and looked at it for a minute. France used to think it was a great joke to rearrange the cupboards and freak England out. At least that wouldn't be happening any more.

When he had cleaned over the kitchen he took the dirty tea towels to the laundry. As he put them into the machine with the rest of the washing, he thought he heard something coming from the kitchen.

He frowned and went to investigate.

There on the counter was the sugar jar. Hadn't he just put that away? He shook his head, called himself an idiot and picked it up, walking back to the cupboard to put it away. Again?

He opened the cupboard and dropped the jar. It shattered on the ground, sending sugar flying every where. The cupboard was completely rearranged. Everything was where it shouldn't be.

Arthur stepped back feeling the tears come out of him as he crushed sugar underfoot.

Eventually tearing his gaze away from the cupboard, he turned and walked briskly towards the front door.

He was almost near it when someone grabbed his wrist and spun him around so he came face to face with Francis.

"Good evening my love." France smiled and pulled him into his body in the same manner as America had only a short while earlier. England began crying even more when he felt a gun pressed to the small of his back. "Remember that night I taught you how to dance? You said it was the greatest day of your life. And now you say that you have more fun with Alfred than me?" "Francis shook his head with a smile and began a slow waltz between them. "Well, now I'm here and I'm going to make you love me again."

There was a knock at the door and France stopped. He cursed under his breath and let England go.

"Answer the door and make them go away."

Arthur nodded and walked over to the door and opened it slightly.

"Arthur…" Alfred stood there with a smile on his face and quite out of breath. "I'm sorry Arthur. I ran back… I'm a stupid moron for leaving you behind like that… It's not right…"

"Alfred…? Please… just go… now is not the best time…"

"What? But, I…" He observed the Englishman's face. He was crying and looking off to the side, as if wary of someone behind him. "Fine. I'm sorry that I was just trying to make you feel better. You know what… maybe you should just go back to Francis. Like I give a damn what he does to you, you stupid fucking frog fucker…"

Alfred turned his back and walked away, Arthur felt a thousand shards of glass pierce his heart as he closed the door.

"Good job, my Princess. Now… go towards the stairs…" He moved the gun and England began walking towards the stairs.

But then he heard the door crash open and he turned to see Alfred break through the wood and tackle France.

"Have no fear, the Hero's hear." He half sang half groaned, not losing his persona for an instant.

They wrestled for the gun, but then France saw a floor to roof length mirror and back into it, slamming Alfred into the immediately shattering glass. He cried out as a large shard pierced his side.

His grip on France slackened and the Frenchman turned around and slammed the end of the gun handle into his face several times, connecting with his jaw bone. He heard a small cracking sound and America crumpled to the floor.

Arthur cried out.

France turned and began walking towards him again but slipped on some glass and the gun went flying to the other end of the room.

England dashed for it. He tripped on the rug and began scrabbling for the gun, which was only an arms length away.

Feeling France grab his ankle, he panicked and lashed out with his other foot, freeing the captured one.

His fingers enclosed around the hilt of the gun and he spun around so he was lying on his back with the gun pointed at Francis.

Soon he was on his feet and screaming at France to do the same with oceans pouring out of his emerald eyes.

Francis held his hands out in a cautious manner.

"Why don't you call the police, my angel?"

"Shut up!"

"You won't kill me… While you remember the bad things that happened between us, you still remember the good…"

Arthur glared… and then moved towards the phone.

He dialed the number with the gun still aimed at France.

But there was just static… the phone lines had been cut.

"What the…" At his small moment of distraction, Francis moved forward.

But Arthur's nerves saved him and he was quicker. He fired and hit Francis in the gut. The Frenchman stumbled, barely comprehending what 'his love' had done to him.

"That was for my body. This is for me."

He fired again and got the Frenchman in the heart.

"And this is for ALFRED!!!" One last shot of the gun and he hit him in the jugular.

He collapsed to the floor in front of Arthur and the Englishman dropped the gun.

Through his tears he saw America still lying in the shattered glass. He ran over to him and pulled him up into a sitting position. He smiled tiredly, and winced.

"Careful. You may have a fractured cheekbone."

"You're such a worry wart…"

"You bloody git…" Arthur smiled and leaned forward and kissed the American.

Behind them he heard a wolf whistle and for one second feared France was still alive.

But turning around, he saw Mathew and Prussia, who held a combat rifle.

"The Calvary is here!" The albino said with a bull shit grin. "Awww… damn. It's already over. Oh well, Mattie? Help me with Francis. It's a good thing you called us Alfred."

England knew France wouldn't be dead. The injuries given to him would only render him unconscious for a while. After all, a nation cannot die so easily.

America rested a hand on England's cheek and pulled him back around to face him so he didn't have to watch Prussia and Canada prepare and take France to the hospital.

"I couldn't wait for tomorrow…" He leaned in and kissed England again.

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_Okie dokie. If I do another chapter, then it won't be very long, but it will just give you an insight as to how the USUK relationship turns out._

_Oh, and just a piece of advice, you see the green button below? Good… Now, if you click and review you will get candy… lots and lots of candy…_

_Prussian Mongrel XD_


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